The Ties That Bind Us
by Justine Themis
Summary: Arthur has rejected both Merlin and his magic when his secret is exposed, despite having saved the prince's life. However, a magical seer wishes to show Arthur the consequences of his actions by showing him what his life would be had he never met Merlin. On temporary hiatus.
1. Spurning Destiny

**JUSTINE: Hello and welcome to a collaboration between my sister, Nada, and myself. We both  
came up with the idea-  
NADA: But I came up with most of the idea…  
JUSTINE: *ahem* I did too and I'm the one who wrote it. And we both… BETA'd each others BETA… (?)  
NADA: It was a long and fun process, but we got it done eventually.  
JUSTINE: This chapter basically sets off what the entire fics about and there will be more to come but that may take a while, because I'm the slowest updater on the net.  
NADA: Yeah, yeah, remember "Gratification"? What happened to that, huh?  
JUSTINE: Whatever… From both of us, enjoy reading!**

* * *

**The Ties That Bind Us.**  
_By Justine Themis & Nada Themis_

"What the _hell_ was that?"

Merlin could only give the Prince of Camelot a confused and questioning look before he realised that his arm was still outstretched, fingers sprawled out towards the limp corpse of the Chimera that lay by a family of shrubs, dead and lifeless as the wildflowers its body had crushed.

Noticing that he had been spotted, Merlin quickly lowered his hand back to his side and gave Arthur the most innocent look he could muster, ignoring the fact that his forehead was now beaded with sweat, "What was what?"

Arthur, having picked himself from the floor, approached Merlin holding his side and clutching a bloody wound from when the beast had attacked. But he was hardly dwelling on his injuries and instead bore the expression of anger and betrayal and many other emotions Merlin had expected when this day was to come. Finally, when the Prince was within a reasonably safe distance of the warlock, he pointed the arm not holding his wound towards the dead Chimera, "_That_! What you did to that… _thing_!"

Merlin glanced over at the creature, the smallest hint of sympathy in his eyes. It had been such majestic creature, with the strong and valiant head of a lion, the sturdy body of a goat and the powerful tail of a dragon. It had been such a privilege to see, but when it had attacked Arthur and himself, he had had no choice but to bring out his magic for defence. He had not meant to kill the beast, maybe just knock it out or scare it away, but he feared his choice of spell was about as poor as how careful he was at hiding his magic from Arthur.

Finally, Merlin shook his head and nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, before turning slightly to pick up the bag that he had dropped in the attack, choosing and speaking his words carefully without giving the prince much eye-contact, "I didn't do anything," he lied, "Maybe you struck it or it just died of exhaustion."

The young warlock could hear Arthur scoff loudly at this just as he slung his bag back onto his shoulders, though he involuntarily jumped out of his skin when he turned and saw that Arthur was now stood much closer to him, glaring holes into his head, "You are a terrible liar. I didn't even _touch_ the beast! And I _saw_ you! I saw you use-…" he hesitated for a moment, "I saw you use _magic_, Merlin!"

At that moment, Arthur had took a step towards the warlock, to which Merlin unconsciously took a mirrored step backwards, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to keep his calm but could sense his eyes betraying him. He could feel his heart thumping a little too loudly in his ears and his blood ran cold as the anger in Arthur's eyes bore into his.

Merlin had hoped and prayed that Arthur's back had been turned when he had used his spell to stop the beast in its attack, hoped that he would have been preoccupied with the Chimera, so that he had a safe chance to cast his spell. But Arthur had turned at just the wrong moment and Merlin could literally feel his excuses evaporating away from him, and was now hanging by threads.

"How do you know it was magic?" he tried pathetically, looking everywhere but at his master, "I could have-"

"Oh, and you're eyes just change to gold all the time?" Arthur spat, "I know magic when I see it, _Mer_lin, and I know that's what you used!" A heartbroken expression adorned the prince's face that instantly cut off any other excuse Merlin had and closed his mouth just as Arthur continued to speak, his voice hard, "Please, Merlin, at least have the decency not to continue _lying_ to me."

It was then that both men remained silent, surrounded by only the thinning surroundings of the forest. Only they, the lifeless body of the beast that had attacked them and the casual breeze that seemed unbeknownst to the situation, blowing happily between them.

Merlin's eyes flitted from left to right, his mind deep in thought. Arthur was right. He shouldn't be trying to lie his way out of something he was caught doing, especially magic. He glanced up and realised that the prince had not moved from his spot, his eyes still boring into his, waiting patiently despite the tension in his muscles. If Merlin was honest, Arthur was taking everything better than he had expected to. So far, anyway. He wasn't dead yet.

Finally, Merlin took in a breath as he stared up at the prince, a new kind of determination in his eyes, "Fine. I used magic," he said bluntly, causing the prince to flinch slightly, "but it stopped the Chimera, didn't it?" Merlin was quick to point that out to Arthur.

This, however, did not bode well with the prince as Arthur's jaw clenched slightly and he took another step towards Merlin, though Merlin did not repel back this time, and his voice came out harsher than before, "And that makes it _alright_, does it?"

Merlin waited a few moments as Arthur's eyes glared deeper into him before shaking his head, "Maybe not. But both of us would most likely be _dead_ if I hadn't stopped it," he said pointedly, ignoring the fact that Arthur was now grinding his teeth together, and he allowed his expression to soften slightly, "you must believe me, Arthur, I've only ever used my magic to help you. And Camelot. I've never-"

"_Believe_ you?" Arthur interrupted, "You've gone against the laws of Camelot. You've been hiding magic in my kingdom. You've lied to me, Merlin. Regardless of anything else, you've betrayed my trust more than _anyone_!" And Merlin could honestly see the betrayal in the prince's face, but still felt agitation build up inside him.

"Why aren't you understanding _any_ of this?" Merlin nearly shouted, his fists clenching at his side, "You would be _dead_! Don't you understand? If I hadn't killed this," he motioned to the Chimera with his hand, "you would be lying on the floor _dead_! I just saved your life, you inconsiderate prat!"

"Saved?" Arthur scoffed, throwing the arm not holding his wound into the air in exasperation, "All you've proved today, Merlin, is that you are dishonest and a liar. Not only to Camelot, but to me. We're-" He stopped himself then, clenching his teeth tighter, looking away from the warlock in disdain.

Merlin's eyes softened slightly, though he could not push away the frustration in his heart. But he knew what Arthur was going to say. They were supposed to be friends. Arthur had had the utmost trust in Merlin in the previous years, trusting him with problems and secrets and confining in him when he needed to, and Merlin trusted him too. It was just his magic was one thing Arthur hadn't ready for – though there was no need to wait anymore, considering he already knew now.

Before Merlin could open his mouth to speak, Arthur had already turned his back to the young warlock, completely and utterly ignoring him as he went to pick up his sword that sat pathetically on the ground, covered in the Chimera's blood, and for a moment, Merlin froze. Was he going to kill him? Though all thoughts of an early death vanished briefly, when Arthur sheathed his sword into his scabbard and proceeded to walk through the arch of a tree and further into the forest.

Merlin cocked an eyebrow briefly at the prince, feeling the slightest hint of confusion, before feeling a surge of bravery and set off in a small jog behind Arthur, though keeping at a respectable distance, and shouted behind him, "Arthur, wait!" he called, though Arthur did not so much as slow in his pace, "Arthur, please, you're injured. You shouldn't be wandering away from Camelot!"

Arthur paused in his step for a moment, though only for a minor second before continuing to walk away from the warlock, going on further through the woods, further from Camelot. Hardly acknowledging his presence, never turning back to look at him.

"Arthur, please!" Merlin was starting to get desperate, going back into his jog to the prince's side, trying to catch his attention, and the previous frustration was slowly building itself in him again, "Why can't you just accept who I am?" he nearly yelled, "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?"

This caused the prince to stop in his path, so suddenly that Merlin nearly tripped over himself mid-step. An awkward and unwelcomed silence followed, engulfing them both, forcing Merlin to control his breathing as he waited, until finally the prince spoke:

"I can't accept who you are, Merlin." He said it so quietly Merlin wasn't sure he heard it right, it was still lined with betrayal, but there was something else; but nevertheless his heart sank and all he could do was sigh and stare at the ground.

"Why not? I thought you believed in equality…" Merlin asked, almost accusingly, towards Arthur – slightly bitter, slightly heartbroken.

At this, Arthur's eyes and fists clenched and the prince took a ragged breath before taking a step forward and turning on his heel so that he faced the warlock, his expression still frowned with anger but filled with determination, "I believe in equality. But not for the likes of you. Not for people who lie and go against the laws of their home. And not for people who practice magic behind my _back_!"

Merlin could see the prince's anger boiling over, but he wasn't backing down yet, he was not going down without so much as a fight for what he did, "I did not practice magic behind your back. I was born with it! I can't help having magic just as much as you can't help being a prince! It's who I _am_!"

"What you are, Merlin," Arthur said instantly, eyes hardly shifting from the warlock's face, hardly showing any emotion, face set with indescribable anguish, "what you are, is a liar. And nothing else." He paused for a moment, sighing with a sort of disappointment, "It seems you weren't the person I thought you were." And with that, he turned away from Merlin and started to walk away again, though not before hearing Merlin's words behind him:

"Nor are you, sire."

At this, Arthur turned his head around just to catch Merlin's hurtful expression, pained and glassy-eyed, and Arthur could not ignore the pang in his chest that he tried with much difficulty to ignore. Yet when Merlin caught Arthur's eye, his face hardened and, unbelievably, Merlin bowed silently towards the prince before turning and walking in the opposite direction away from him. Arthur watched him before a group of trees blocked him from his line of vision and he was left alone.

Arthur allowed himself a few moments. To revel in his feelings, to listen to his breathing deepen and grow louder before finally he let out a cry of frustration and violently kicked one of the trees beside him and stomped off further through the forest.

* * *

Arthur didn't know how long he had been walking through the forest before he began to doubt his decision of wondering off so far. His foot was hurting from kicking the tree and the wound on his side, though not deep or life-threatening, was still painful and bleeding and making his vision slightly blurry. Though his frustration kept him going like a new life-force.

He couldn't believe it! Merlin, a _sorcerer_! His lazy, insolent, idiot of a manservant was a _sorcerer_!

Arthur could feel his teeth grinding together again, his frustration building and boiling slowly through his muscles. He didn't know what to think anymore! His friendship with Merlin… his 'friendship' was something he had truly valued. And what annoyed him more, his heart still told him that's what it _was_! He hated it! He was supposed to be livid, filled with hatred on the fact Merlin had learnt magic against his kingdom, but all he could think of was how betrayed he was over the fact Merlin hadn't _told_ him about his magic.

No, magic was evil. Therefore, Merlin was evil. That was what he taught and that was what he should believe. Nothing good could come from a sorcerer, nothing good could come from magic, nothing-

The faint snapping of a twig drew Arthur from his thoughts, causing him to involuntarily flinch. At first he thought it was Merlin, still following him, and he was prepared to turn and yell at the insolent man, but he froze and his eyes widened at the sight of his new company before him.

In front of him, a few metres spaced from where he stood, was a women. A beautiful one, at that. Her hair was dark and braided over a single slender shoulder, yet was braided with silver string that contrasted beautifully with her hair. Her skin was pale and she was dressed in a simple pearl white robe, which brushed against the forest floor. But her eyes… her eyes were entrancing. Yet they did not seem to hold a colour, but instead shifted between them, from blue to grey to violet, forever changing…

But despite her beauty, she glowed magic and instantly Arthur found himself reaching for his sword. But he could not find the strength to unsheathe it and could only stare at the women as she began to walk in a slow and steady pace towards him.

"I am the Prince of Camelot and you will not come any closer!" Arthur warned, he really was _not_ in the mood for more magic.

But the women only _tutted_, shaking her head like a disapproving mother. Arthur opened his mouth to question this women's respect for royalty before she hushed him and instead, spoke in an enticing yet stern voice, "I am Vesta. A seer from the far lands," she scowled at the prince, "and I am disappointed, Prince Arthur of Camelot."

Another sorcerer, Arthur frowned inwardly before addressing the women with his head held high and back straight, though his hand did not waver from his sword "Disappointed? I don't-"

"You have broken the ties of destiny," Vesta interrupted, "and now the fates are in chaos."

Arthur's mouth gaped slightly at this – he had no comprehension of what she was saying - but no words came out. But before he could muster up a sentence towards the women, he jolted from his spot for he saw that Vesta was right in front of him, staring at him with her drawing eyes, filled with determination and strength and magic.

"You have broken these ties, Arthur Pendragon," Vesta spoken with words that were only slightly above a whisper, "You are threatening your destiny." A small smile played on her lips, "But there are things I can show you…" and she trailed off, as if she was suggesting the idea more to herself.

But Arthur could only stare at her with confusion, "Things? What thin-" but before he could finish his sentence, Vesta had placed a hand on Arthur's forehead and forced him to stare into her mismatch eyes, before finally they flashed a brilliant ochre and a sentence of foreign words muttered their way past her lips.

The last thing Arthur remembered was Vesta's painted smile, before his eyes fell heavy and he collapsed into dark unconsciousness…

* * *

Arthur was awoken by the irritating sound of knocking. Loud, thumping sounds banging against a threatening headache. He groaned loudly before grabbing hold of his pillow and wrapping it around the back of his head in hope of drowning out the sounds that infiltrated him room, and he tried to snuggle back into the warmth of his bed…

Wait… what?

Instantly, Arthur turned onto his back and bolted up. Blinking back the light of the morning sun, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his fist, he looked around to realise his was in his chambers. Not only that, but in his nightwear and in bed.

"What on earth…" Curiously, Arthur glanced down at his side, but there was no wound. Nothing that ever indicated he had been injured by the Chimera. No scar - nothing. He flexed his toes and realised his foot didn't hurt either. Had the fight with the Chimera, the discovery of Merlin's magic…. Had it not happened?

No. Arthur remembered it clearly. Too clearly for it to have been a simple dream. But then why was he in his bed? Had he not been in the forest?

Then he remembered the women. Vesta, he remembered her calling herself, and he felt anger boil up inside him. She had done something to him! He didn't know what, but she had magic and she had used it and somehow she had sent him back to Camelot… But why? And what-

There was that same knocking again, interrupting his train of thought, and the prince realised it was coming from the door of his room. Sighing angrily, he shouted towards the door:

"Come in!"

Half of him had expected to see Merlin stumble his way through the door, tripping over his own feet with his breakfast, though he knew Merlin had walked away after their argument. But he was not expecting his old servant, Morris, to open the doors to his chambers, bowing deeply with tray in hand.

"Morris?" Arthur wondered, baffled without recognition. Morris had been Arthur's manservant _before_ Merlin, the same man he had tormented and used for target practise on a daily basis, but obviously had had his job taken from him. So what was he still doing in the castle…?

Morris rose an eyebrow at the prince as he walked in with quick pace and placed the prince's breakfast on the table on the end of Arthur's bed, "Yes sire? Is their something you need?" He offered.

Arthur shook his head, confusion now clearly embedding itself into his heart and consciousness before speaking, "I was just wondering, where's Merlin?"

A few moment passed in silence as the prince stared at his old manservant, who did not move but instead bore the utmost confused expression Arthur had ever seen a man wear – aside from his own, of course – before Morris opened his mouth to speak and spoke the words Arthur did not know he dreaded;

"…Merlin, sire? I... I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about, my lord."

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**NADA: Don Don Donnnn,…Oh Dear… what could this all mean? Oh no! Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until the next update (which, knowing Justine, might take some time). I do apologize dearies for my incompetent sister, but I promise I will bug her beyond belief to get her to quicken her writing. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I would very much like to remind everyone I came with this originally. Okay? Yeah, not Justine and just so you know-  
JUSTINE: OK, Nada, that's enough (incompetent?) You're going to bore them… Though I did write this. Just so you know.  
(NADA: Don't forget to review! Love it, hate it, tell us! By the way, sorry for any mistakes. If you see any, tell us that too!)**

**Thanks for reading,  
~ Justine & Nada Themis**


	2. Forgetting Destiny

**JUSTINE: Hello again. Just me today. Unfortunately, Nada was so very, very happy over the kind reviews from the first chapter that she passed out and would probably take up loads of space with her thanks. So she'll hopefully be back next chapter.  
By the way, I'd like to mention that Morris isn't a name I made up for the sake of this story. If anyone has read the official Merlin novels, in The Dragon's Call "Morris" is the name of Arthur's servant who he's playing target practise with (he's name isn't series-canon, but still.) Just thought you'd like to know.  
Anyway, as a better way of saying thank you for everything, here's chapter two. Happy reading!**

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**The Ties That Bind Us. – Chapter Two  
**_By Justine Themis and Nada Themis_

_A few moments passed in silence as the prince stared at his old manservant, who did not move but instead bore the utmost confused expression Arthur had ever seen a man wear – aside from his own, of course – before Morris opened his mouth to speak and spoke the words Arthur did not know he dreaded;_

"…_Merlin, sire? I… I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about, my lord?"_

Arthur could only stare at Morris as if the boy had suddenly grown a second head. His old manservant _must_ know who Merlin was – Merlin had been his servant for nearly three years, for god's sake! – Every servant who served under the _king_ knew who he was. Regardless as to whatever happened back in the forest between him and Merlin, he should not have just _disappeared_.

"Merlin," Arthur continued slowly, drawing out the name incase Morris had missed it first time around, "My manservant. Where is he?"

Morris blinked, eyes skittering around the room hopelessly and confused before the young boy spoke, "I'm sorry, sire. But I have no idea who you're talking about. _I've_ been you servant for years now." Morris was obviously starting to look scared.

Arthur blanched. He couldn't form any words anymore. What on _earth_ was going on?

The prince thought for a moment. He had been in the woods, arguing with Merlin over… certain matters… and then he had met Vesta and she, for some reason, had sent him back to Camelot. He remembered that much. But why? Because of his injuries? Arthur shook his head mentally. No. That… women had been a sorcerer. She wouldn't just heal him and send him home without having some plan in mind. Those with magic were lying, deceiving, traitorous little _morons_!…

But he remembered Vesta having said something. Something about him breaking something and threatening something else… The last thing he could remember was her eyes flashing gold…

Arthur ran a hand over his face, groaning loudly and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger in distress. He could literally feel the confusion eating away at him and it was making his head hurt. He then casted a glance at Morris, who was still standing at the end of the prince's bed, shifting on his feet and generally looking blank. So maybe there was an explanation for his sudden return to Camelot and missing wound – though he didn't believe it himself - but Morris he couldn't explain. What would that sorceress have gained from giving him back _Morris_, of all people. His old manservant who couldn't even remember that he didn't work for him anymore and hasn't for over two years… Maybe Morris wasn't Vesta's doing - maybe the boy had lost his mind over the years and thought he still worked for the prince.

The more Arthur thought about it, the more believable that was beginning to sound.

Quickly running a hand through his sleep-tattered hair, Arthur decided that staying in bed wasn't going to get him anywhere. If Morris honestly was a man without a sanity, then he would go seek answers elsewhere. He was still angry and bothered by the incident with Merlin, but he felt knowing what was going on first may help clear his head so he could think. He would go to Gaius; the elderly physician would hopefully hold the answers to his queries.

After shifting towards the edge of the bed and allowing his bare feet to touch the polished stone below, Arthur walked over to behind the screen and proceeded to get changed. Almost instantly Morris was on the other side of the changing screen, holding and passing clothes to the prince around the sides, constantly asking as to whether or not he required the manservant's assistance. Which, of course, he didn't.

When Arthur had donned his causal attire - a tunic and breeches with a red jacket that bore Camelot's crest on one of the pockets and a pair of reasonably comfortable boots – he turned to Morris and excused the boy. Morris seemed happy to comply with the prince's orders and left, taking Arthur's nightwear with him to be cleaned.

Shaking his head, Arthur sighed. Oh yes, he remembered Morris all too well. He was useless and unreliable and… well, weak. He couldn't remember why his father had appointed him as his servant in the first place. Maybe… No, he couldn't remember. But he knew that Morris had been more of a play-thing, rather than a servant. Arthur had tormented and humiliated the boy many times in the past; he would be lying if he said he didn't regret it, but in all perfect honesty, Morris was nothing more than a bootlicker. Nice guy, but a bootlicking sod nonetheless. Nothing like-

Arthur stopped himself then, mentally kicking himself in the gut. _You're slightly disorientated at the moment, don't forget why you're looking for him_, he told himself. Taking a reassuring breath and straightening his jacket, he left his chambers with a subtle creak of the door.

Outside, however, Arthur could not help his eyes widening slightly as he stared through the arch windows that sat across his room. What he was staring at _was _his Camelot, but also… not Camelot.

There was something different about it. The kingdom looked weary and almost _small_ in his eyes, something it never was. The people that strolled the grounds were from few to none, yet each person held a cautious and withdrawn look, as if they feared the ground would suddenly swallow them up or that the next person they passed would rob them of their life. It was unnerving. What could have possibly happened to his kingdom whilst he slept?

Drawing his eyes away from the kingdom, the prince again set for Gaius' chambers, praying that the physician knew what was going on.

* * *

Arthur was trying with much difficulty not to sprint down the corridor. If he looked too bothered, it would cause suspicion amongst the other servants and would most likely reach his father. There were just some things the prince had to find out for himself without the king's help. In the end, he settled for a fast walk. He still drew strange glances occasionally, but he chose to ignore them and continued on through the stone-walled hallway.

He slowed when he reached Gaius' chamber door, fully intending to fling open the door and demand as to where Merlin was. But when his hand reached for the door handle, a single thought passed his mind and he hesitated. Had Gaius _known_ that Merlin was a sorcerer?

It was certainly plausible. Merlin was like a son to Gaius, and Gaius was very much a deeming fatherly figure. In all fair and total honesty, he wouldn't be surprised _if_ Gaius knew. But that also made the physician guilty of treason by proximity - though Arthur would ponder on this later when he got the answers he desired and after shaking the thoughts from his head, he opened the door.

Stepping inside, he was shocked at the sight that met him. The physician's chamber's was extremely unorganised. Scrolls littered the desks and floor, the papers frayed and useless. Corked vials of god-knows-what were scattered all over the place, though some were shattered and seeping their contents onto the unclean floors. Books that were once sat in a now near-empty bookcase were now strewn across the floor, some stacked in piles at awkward angles that threatened to fall and some were just left neglected with the spines creased and covers ripped beyond repair. Plates of food scraps, unwashed and left to rotten, sat on the table Arthur remembered Gaius use for examining patients and grimaced at the idea of anyone lying on that table anymore.

He then spotted Merlin's room. It _virtually_ looked the same and Arthur found himself strangely relieved that at least one thing had remained indifferent so far. Finally the prince took another step into the room, closed the door gently behind himself, and carefully made his way further into the chambers.

"Gaius!" He called. No reply. Slowly the prince made his way across the room to one of the more tidier bookshelves, treading slowly so not to step on anything. He cocked his head slightly at the stacked books, trying to make out the washed and discoloured words on the vaguely tattered spines, before a voice brought his attention back to the door to Merlin's room.

"Ah, sire!" came Gaius' welcoming voice and Arthur caught sight of the physician exiting down the small cluster of steps that led to Merlin's room, holding a small stack of books in one arm.

Arthur was surprised to see that the elderly man too was looking worse for wear. Like many of the other things Arthur had seen in Camelot in the few short hours he had been awake, Gaius had also seemed to have changed. He seemed more worn, much older than he remembered, and he looked tired and weary.

Realising he was staring, Arthur shook his head to clear his thoughts before addressing the physician, "Yes, Gaius, I was just wondering-"

"One moment, sire," Gaius interrupted, hobbling across the room to a table cluttered with books. Gaius took the stack in his arms and stacked them onto one another. It wobbled dangerously. "Much better." The physician sighed and stretched his back as if a huge weight had been lifted from him.

Arthur blinked slowly, staring at the stacks upon stacks of books, crushing beneath them scraps of paper and bent scrolls. Arthur couldn't help speaking his mind, "It's very… untidy in here, don't you think?" He kept his voice casual, so not to offend the elderly man.

Though Gaius turned to the prince and frowned, _clearly_ offended, "Excuse me, sire, but after the Griffin attack, I have not had much time to organise my belongings." Gaius stepped towards a wooden stool and sat himself down, sighing in relief.

For a moment Arthur stared at him, totally confused, before his eyes widened, "A Griffin? When was this?" Had Camelot been attacked while he was away or asleep or… he didn't even know anymore.

Gaius gave him an odd look, "No sire, the one from last night," he paused for a moment, "You do remember, don't you, sire? You _were_ the one who led the attack."

Arthur could only shake his head. His mind was reeling but it felt as if it had gone blank. He didn't remember _anything_ about a Griffin, especially not from the night before. And he certainly didn't battle one last night… What _had_ he done last night?... He had attended a meeting with his father, if he remembered rightly, and then he had gone back to his chambers with-

"Gaius," Arthur began quickly, his thoughts before now pushed into the back of his mind for later, "have you seen Merlin?" He withheld his feelings of anger back, not wishing to hint to the physician what has happened to his ward until his head was clear. It was possible Gaius _hadn't_ known of Merlin's magic, so the prince wouldn't really want to bother the elderly man until the situation was dealt with.

However, Gaius only stared, his expression filled with wonder and question, "Merlin, sire?" he shook his head, "I've never heard of him." He face was so casual Arthur almost believed he was telling the truth. Almost.

Arthur gritted his teeth. Whatever game everyone was playing, it was getting old and it _certainly_ wasn't funny. Morris, he could understand. The guy probably had no idea who Merlin was. But Gaius? Forgive him if he found that a little hard to believe.

The prince sighed, suddenly feeling exasperated. But he would hold his tongue and not loose his head, because maybe Gaius knew of the situation. Maybe he was trying to protect his ward. But as honourable as that was, he was still being lied too. "Gaius, please. Where is he?" he asked again.

Arthur waited for an answer. But all he got was more confused looks and blank expressions before the physician spoke:

"Where's who, sire?" he frowned, clearly concerned, "Arthur, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, Gaius." Arthur nearly yelled, "For the last time, I just want to know where Merlin is."

"But I don't know-"

"Your _ward_!" _Now_ the prince was shouting. Gaius flinched at Arthur's outburst, suddenly looking slightly scared, but he was honestly too annoyed to care at the moment, "_Merlin_, your _nephew_! Who you've been looking after for _two years_, Gaius! You can't honestly expect me to believe you've forgotten him!" Arthur could feel his nails digging into his palms as he clenched his fists. And when Gaius' expression just got more bewildered, his anger just boiled more. What on _earth_ was everyone _playing_ at?

Deciding he couldn't wait for a response any longer, Arthur turned and stomped over towards where Merlin's room sat and without thinking flung open the door, the hinges creaking in blatant protest.

He froze at the door.

Merlin's room… well, it wasn't really a room. Or Merlin's. What Arthur met was what could only be described as a small library. Tall and wide shelves lined the walls; heaps of books smothered the floors, leaving very little walking space… nothing that indicated to having accommodated a certain manservant. Or anyone. For years.

Gaius' voice sounded behind him, concerned very clear in his voice, "Arthur, are you well? Has something happened?" He sounded as if the prince had gone mad, or was slowly starting too, and Arthur wouldn't put it past him to believe it. He was certainly starting to feel like he was going mad.

"Gaius…" Arthur began slowly, not tearing his eyes from the room, "This room… was it always like this?"

A few moments of silenced past before Arthur could feel Gaius' gentle hand touch his forearm, leading him slowly down the stairs, "Yes, sire. For many years now," he said softly, taking a much firmer grip on Arthur's arm and gently pulling him towards a lone wooden stool, "Sit here, sire."

And Arthur did. He felt dazed and confounded and utterly lost. If he hadn't sat down he was sure he would have walked into something. He had never been so confused of his surroundings so much before, had never doubted his _sanity_ so much as he was now, all because of-…

Vesta... That _bloody_ women had most definitely done something. And whatever it was, he wanted her to take it away. _What_ had he broken? _What_ did she want to show him? What was the point of showing him whatever it is she had wanted to show him if it just meant he was going to look and sound like a complete _fool_?

Arthur was scowling to himself before Gaius' wrinkled hands were placed at either side of his head, lifting his chin, pulling up his eyelids, inspecting him for most likely any signs of a prince gone mad. But Arthur batted the elderly mans hands away, "There is nothing wrong with me, Gaius," he said, clenching his jaw, but Gaius' face told him the physician believed otherwise. Which only made Arthur more annoyed.

"Sire, please," Gaius began, grabbing hold of Arthur head once more and inspected his scalp and forehead, brushing back hair in the process, looking for injuries, "Have you hit your head? Do you remember ever falling or being struck?"

Again Arthur angrily pulled his head away from Gaius' hands, "No. As I've said, nothing is wrong with me! I just-" He paused. Maybe it _was_ possibly Gaius had no idea who Merlin was. Maybe Vesta – _that twisted, insolent sorceress!_ – had done something to him. She had said she wanted to show him something – maybe making Gaius forgetting his own ward was just that. And quite possibly everyone else, if his hypothesis was correct. Though what would it achieve, really, by making everyone forget Merlin but him?

Arthur calmed himself and shook his head at Gaius, "Nevermind Gaius. I must be tired. You know, fighting the…" he thought for a moment, "fighting the Griffin and all that." It seemed odd to imply he'd such a thing, as he had no memory of fighting it the night before, as Gaius had said he did.

After a few moments of Gaius giving Arthur a sceptical look, and the prince could tell that Gaius was trying to determine as to whether or not he was telling the truth, he finally withdrew and sighed with relief, "Well, that is good then." He smiled, "For a moment I thought you were suffering from some sort of memory loss. I can give you something if you are having trouble sleeping, sire."

The prince shook his head, "No, thank you Gaius." Then a thought hit him. Maybe he could still ask Gaius about what was happening to him. Not directly obviously, but subtly as if it was just his curiosity talking. He trusted Gaius and he knew the physician would keep any conversation confidential if he asked, even it involved indiscrete mentions of magic .

Arthur cleared his throat, trying to keep his exterior calm whilst his heart was starting to thump wildly in his chest. But before he could open his mouth to speak, the door of Gaius' chambers was thrown open and stood in the archway was Morris, panting and out of breath as if he had just ran laps around the kingdom.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Oh yes, he remembered Morris' "perfect timing" for interrupting things.

"S-sire…" Morris wheezed before he stiffened his stance and bowed, though looked more like he was about to keel over, in Arthur's opinion, "You're father… he wishes for you presence in the court."

Arthur paused for a beat, before sighing as he stood from his chair. Despite all the confusion in everything, he had almost forgotten he still had duties as prince of Camelot. He gave a quick nod towards Morris before turning towards Gaius and smiled at the physician, "I'll still need to speak with you, Gaius. I'll be back after I've spoken with my father." He promised.

Gaius returned the smile and said, "Very well, sire. I'll be waiting here for your return."

With that, Arthur excused himself and left the physician's room, Morris following in close suit behind him.

* * *

As Arthur walked through the long corridors of Camelot castle, he couldn't help staring with bewilderment through the dirty and stained windows at the kingdom below. He had caught it before - after having left his room - but as he walked and stared, catching glimpses of homes being hastily rebuilt, damage from what he assumed was from the supposed Griffin attack, and seeing people he did not actually recognise… it was an unusual feeling.

Nothing seemed to have stayed the same.

"Sire," Morris' voice jolted the prince out of his thoughts as he remembered his old manservant was still with him, "are you quite alright?"

Arthur grunted, "I'm fine." And he sped up his pace further and Morris had to nearly jog to keep up with him.

Finally he reached the entrance to the court, heavily guarded by four or so armed guards. When one caught sight of Arthur they bowed towards the prince, "Welcome sire," he said courtly before turning and pushing open the door, it's hinges creaking loudly and slowly, echoing into the court.

"Stay outside." Arthur told Morris, without so much as looking at the boy, before he stepped into the court and the guards closed to doors behind him.

The inside of the court was cold, more than Arthur remembered. He was pleased to see familiar paintings and weaponry hanging from the stone walls – as seeing anything familiar was suddenly comforting for him. The room itself was nearly vacant apart from the two people who sat at the rectangular table that sat in the centre of the room.

His father, Uther, sat at the far end of the table. Beside him sat Morgana, dressed in her casual aquamarine and purple attire. Arthur could see they were engaged in conversation, one he could clearly see his father was disapproving of. Though when the king caught sight of his son, he paused his conversation and stood from his seat.

"Arthur," he addressed calmly, "thank you for joining us." His voice wasn't exactly as thankful as his words made out, but Arthur chose to ignore it and proceeded to walk towards the table.

"Sorry, father," Arthur said calmly before taking a seat of the other side of his father, across from Morgana, "I was talking to Gaius on some irrelevant matters." He nodded a greeting towards Morgana - though to his surprise she coldly regarded him with a scowl. Strange…

Uther took his seat once more, "Very well." The king intertwined his fingers and allowed his elbows to rest on the solid table. And the room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Unable to take being summoned just so he could sit in silence, Arthur cleared his throat, "You wished to discuss something with me, father?" He wondered casually and at this the king sighed.

"Yes," he glanced towards Morgana, who's slightly irritated expression had not faltered, "Morgana wishes to visit a village outside of the kingdom."

Arthur's eyes widened slightly as he spoke, "Outside of the borders?"

"Only for a fortnight," Morgana cut in quickly, her face softened slightly, "Their village has just been recently raided, several of their farmers have been killed. I just want to bring some food to a few of the families. Just until the village is able to survive on its own again."

Uther's face hardened as he frowned at his ward, "I do not see why this would have anything to do with you or me. They are in a completely different kingdom, Morgana!" His voice was rising gradually.

"They would owe you, would they not?" Morgana continued, "To help their village at when they are at their weakest, they would owe you a great deal. Would that not benefit Camelot, sire?"

Uther actually seemed to consider the young woman's words, his brow creased in thought. But he shook his head, "Still, it is far too dangerous. And with only you and your maid, it would be unthinkable for me to allow you to wander so far away from the kingdom."

"Then send Arthur with us!" Morgana nearly shouted and Arthur felt himself involuntarily jump. He had been so excluded from the conversation to that point that he had almost began to get distracted by little details around the room. He wasn't sure his father had actually meant to summon him anymore. Still, he remained quiet and waited outside the conversation.

Uther's expression was not becoming any more agreeing with Morgana's suggestions and her voice was now coming out in pleas, "Please, Uther," she began, "If we take too many men, we'll seem a threat to the villagers. Not only that, but our journey will be a lot slower then planned," Still silence. "Please. I've already asked on the safest route to the village; we'll be fine."

After an awkward and pregnant pause, the king sighed and turned to his son, "Will you occupy Morgana to where she wants to go?" Beside him Morgana happily clapped her hands together and again Uther frowned.

Arthur nodded, though he wasn't completely sure what he was agreeing to. It seemed as if his father and Morgana had already decided he was going, regardless if he wanted to or not. "Yes, father." He found himself complying.

Uther sat back in his chair, "Good. Bring her back safely, Arthur. If you should not have returned after the fortnight is over, I will send a party out to search for you and bring you home, whether you want to or not" he turned to Morgana, "Is that understood?"

Arthur nodded. Across him Morgana did the same.

The king sighed, running a tired hand over his face, "Very well. You both may go." He muttered.

Arthur stood and bowed to his father. Morgana herself stood and curtsied and offered a thankful goodbye before both walked through the court towards the doors, which had already been opened for them by the guards.

As they both stepped outside and the doors closed behind him, Arthur allowed himself to sigh in relief – though allowed a small smile to play on his lips. His confusion of the day aside, he was starting to find everything slightly amusing. Or at least he was trying to look at it that way. For his father to summon him, blatantly ignore him, and then suddenly send him on a journey with only his adopted sister and a servant… Well, he would rather find it amusing then continue down the road of confusion that sorceress had sent him down.

Turning to Morgana to share his amusement, he stopped and his face fell instantly. Morgana was looking at him, but her eyes held something he had never seen her give him. Anger, maybe even hatred… What reason would she have to hate him?

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but was instantly cut off by Morgana:

"Do not think," she bit harshly, though her words echoed a sort of sadness in them, "that because you are accompanying us, that you are suddenly in-charge." She scowled at him, "You are to act as protection and nothing else." And as she spoke her final words, she turned and walked away, her beautiful dress brushing against the polished floor.

Arthur stood, mouth gaped slightly as he watched the king's ward walk away from him. Had she honestly just spoken to him like that? Sure, they bantered in the past, but Morgana had never used that tone with him. After all the confusion he'd been through in the day, _now_ Morgana was a completely different person? What excuse was there for _this_?

Arthur shook his head clear and called out to Morgana, his voice slightly annoyed, "If you didn't want me going, Morgana, why would you suggest I come with you?"

Morgana stopped just as she was to turn a corner and turned her head towards the prince, her beautifully painted lips twisted into a smirk before she said, "How else would I have got Uther to allow me to go?" And she turned the corner and was gone.

* * *

**JUSTINE: Hm, for some reason, the second half of this got really bad… But maybe that's just me. When Nada was reading out this chapter (during our beta-ing together) we could not stop laughing for some reason – I think when you've reread your own work that many times, it starts to sound really bad… But I do hope this very-confused-Arthur chapter is alright. Also, there may be some mistakes, but it's late so I'll get on them tomorrow.**

**Thank very much for reading, and don't forget to review. Not for me, but for Nada. She really likes reviews and I need her to do the draft before I can write the next chapter (as motivation) so yeah... Let's keep her happy.  
Thanks again,  
~ Justine and Nada Themis**


	3. Excepting Destiny

**JUSTINE: …Holy shitake… I really hope my eyes are lying to me but according to my profile… it's been over a YEAR since I've updated! Seriously? Oh my god… I just want to crawl into a hole and die… Where have the days gone? **

**I honestly don't know what to say for myself. I'm sorry, is probably a good start. I'm very, very sorry. I think… I think this idea just left me for a bit. I never forgot about it, I just kept procrastinating. And then life got all complicated and now I'm a University student and everything just blew out of proportion… Also, becoming obsessed with Sherlock didn't help very much. **

**I would not be surprised if no-one was reading this anymore and I honestly don't think this chapter will make up for such a long hiatus. But I would like to thank and love everyone who is still with us, and I would very much like to thank, if I remember rightly, ruby890 who PM'd me only recently asking me about this fic and reminding me why I loved it even after so long. But really, thank you to everyone.**

**Now, after MUCH waiting, shall we get on with it?**

* * *

**The Ties That Bind Us – Chapter 3**

_By Justine and Nada Themis_

After the meeting with his father and Morgana, Arthur began walking back to Gaius' chambers. Morris had been waiting outside the courts just as the prince had ordered but Arthur quickly dismissed the boy, telling him to gather supplies and ready his horse to leave with Morgana. Arthur was not entirely sure why, but it felt awkward talking to Morris. This was a servant he had frequently tormented in the past and seeing him again was nothing more than uncomfortable.

Arthur shook his head as he walked through the corridors; "uncomfortable" was an understatement for how he was feeling. The prince knew Gaius would not be able to answer all of his questions, but there were some he thought the physician could at least help make clearer.

When he reached the wooden door of Gaius' chambers, he disregarded the idea of knocking and opened the door. The room itself remained as it was, with scroll scattered everywhere and the reek of medicine in the air, and at the table sat Gaius, leaning over a pile of old scrolls whilst cutting into a misshaped plant with a knife.

Arthur stepped into the room, clearing his throat when Gaius remained oblivious to his presence.

The physician looked up and smiled, "Why hello again, sire!" he welcomed, putting the knife down onto the table and wiping his hands on his robes, "You did say you would be back."

"Yes, I did," Arthur said, quickly sparing a glance at what used to be the door to Merlin's room, before turning back to the physician with a flat expression, "I just had a few questions that I hoped you could help clarify for me."

"If it is within my power, sire."

Arthur turned and shut the door behind him. "It's regarding magic, Gaius." he said.

Gaius' eyes widened considerably. "Magic, sire?" he gaped, his voice shrinking into just barely a whisper, "Arthur, should your father hear of this-"

"It's only some curiosity, Gaius," the prince assured, "completely hypothetical."

Gaius' brows furrowed deeply in concern, "Maybe so, sire, but…" He sighed, "Very well, then. What is it you would like to know?" He gestured to the chair in front of him.

Arthur silently thanked the physician with a faint smile before walking over and taking the seat Gaius offered. He rested his elbows on the table, taking a deep breath as he thought of what to ask first. There was so much he wanted to ask; so much he wanted to know…

"Gaius, is it possible for a sorcerer to alter time?" he found himself asking.

The court physician blinked widely, his surprise clear, "A sorcerer? Most definitely not. To disrupt with the fabrication of time is near impossible, a sorcerer would never be able to hold onto so much power."

Arthur frowned, "_Near_ impossible?"

"For a sorcerer, it would, without a shadow of a doubt, be impossible." Gaius continued, "Time is not something one can easily manipulate. If one was of the Old Religion, however, such things may be possible. To an extent, of course."

"How so?"

"Well, even if one did possess the powers of the Old Religion, they would never be able to freeze time, simply slow it down. They may also choose to make themselves appear younger or older, but they could never force time to age with them. It would disrupt all the natural balance of the world."

Arthur absorbed this information and nodded, "Then is it possible for a sorcerer to move someone _else_ into, for example, a separate timeline?"

Gaius stared at the prince, slightly stricken, "I've never heard of such an occurrence having happened before, sire." he said, but quickly added, "But the Old Religion is a mysterious force, I would be lying if I said I knew all there was to it. Many things are possible, sire."

Arthur couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, for he had hoped for more of an explanation. But he decided it would be pointless to pursue the question anymore and moved on to another. "So, hypothetically speaking, why would a sorcerer _want_ to alter time?"

Gaius considered for a moment, "There would most likely be many reasons, sire. But, more appropriately, it would be so that they can right what has been wronged," His face darkened, "or wrong what has gone right."

_You have broken the ties of destiny and now the fates are in chaos…You have broken these ties, Arthur Pendragon… You are threatening your destiny…_

Vesta's voice, for the first time, was as clear as crystal in Arthur's mind. The subtle tones of warning, of disappointment and shame… So clear that now he knew it could not possibly have been a dream. Yet he wasn't entirely sure what she had meant by a 'destiny' or by how he has 'broken' it…

_But there are things I can show you…_

Arthur ran a tired hand over his face. Everything was so confusing…

"Thank you Gaius," Arthur said finally, standing from his seat and smiling, "You've been of great help."

"This _is_ all completely hypothetical, sire?" Gaius asked, his voice unsure.

"Completely." Arthur said, nodding, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a trip to be ready for. I'm leaving with Morgana for a few days."

The physician nodded his understanding and spoke a calm farewell with which Arthur turned on his heel and left for the door. However before having opened it, with his hand still resting on the door-handle, he stopped.

_I did not practice magic behind your back._

"Gaius," Arthur began, turning to look over his shoulder.

The physician looked up at him, eyebrow raised slightly. "Yes, sire?"

_I was born with it! I can't help having magic just as much as you can't help being a prince!_

Arthur hesitated for a moment, "Is it… is it possible for a sorcerer to be born with magic?"

Gaius frowned from where he sat, "A sorcerer? No. A _warlock_ is one born with magic. But they are very rare and very few are still aliv-."

Arthur was gone before Gaius could finish his sentence.

* * *

Outside, Arthur allowed himself a few moments. He leaned against Gaius' door, his head tilted slightly, staring at the hard and ominous ceiling and inhaled deeply. All the talk of sorcery was draining him mentally and making his head hurt and now _warlocks_?

Arthur chuckled humourlessly to himself. _Mer_lin, a warlock? Being a sorcerer was infuriating and ridiculous enough, being a warlock was just laughable.

But if he _had_ been born with his magic…

The prince shook his head, _Forget it_, he told himself, leaning away from the door and walking from the physician's chambers, _you have more important things to think about, _he reminded himself.

However, being so deep in thought inside his own mind, Arthur had not realised that, as he turned a corner, one of the maids had been in front of him, walking in the opposite direction. He collided with her and would have succeeded in knocking her over had he not grabbed her shoulders.

He was about to apologise when all thought and voice was cut off by the young woman in front of him.

"Guinevere?" He almost yelled this exclamation, so surprised to see her. Realising he was still holding her shoulders, he released her quickly.

The young maidservant stood for a moment, patting down her skirt and apron, clearly having not seen the prince as she fussed over herself whilst apologising frantically to whoever she had collided with. Arthur could not help but smile at how little Gwen had changed; still beautiful, still… Gwen.

When she had finished readjusting her, Gwen looked up. Her mouth open to speak, but instantly she appeared to become as still as a statue when she realised it was Arthur she had collided with. Her eyes went wide before she dipped into a low curtsey. "Forgive me, sire, I had not seen you there." she said, though hastily amended, "Not that anyone would not notice you, sire, I mean… I just wasn't paying much attention- But only-"

"It's fine Guinevere." Arthur interrupted, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. He tried to ignore the way she subtly flinched against his touch. "You aren't hurt are you?"

Gwen's thin brows rose slightly, "N-no, your highness, I'm just sorry I-"

"It's fine," he assured her again, smiling, though he could not help feeling slightly hurt at the fact that even Gwen – the women her loved more than any other – also treated him differently. "Is there anything you needed, Guinevere?"

Gwen, who had finally calmed herself from her shock, blinked widely at the prince with a sort of wonder, "Actually, sire, m'lady sent me to tell you the horses are ready and that she is ready to leave."

Arthur's face fell. He remembered his last conversation with Morgana, or whoever this woman was who claimed to be her. She had acted so coldly to him, as if they had grown up not as siblings but as people who loathed each other with every fabrication of their being. It was unnerving to say the least.

"Will you be joining us, Guinevere?" Arthur asked hopefully.

"Of course," Gwen said with a smile, "I would not think of leaving my mistress on her own-… Not that she would be on her own, sire," she quickly added, "I know she would have you, I just mean-"

"Then shall we get going?" Arthur laughed, walking past the bumbling maidservant as she mixed her words. He glanced around briefly to watch her curtsy a second time before catching up to walk behind him as they continued to walk through the castle.

* * *

Arthur would be lying if he said he was not happy to see Llamrei. Out of everything he had seen so far, his mare had changed the least. She was still the loveliest of his horses and the strongest, in every sense of the word, not to mention the smartest when it came to obeying commands. But when he approached her, she regarded him with a sort of indifference and again he was reminded that he was not in his own time. He was somewhere completely different to his Camelot…

Morgana was already seated on her own horse, though she was dressed in more appropriate riding attire, wearing her trousers and boots rather than her silk dresses and her hair tide back. Guinevere rode up beside her, dressed also in her riding clothes, and quickly dismounted so she could check the bags attached to Morgana's saddle as well as her own.

The bags, Arthur realised, were filled with food for the village they were to visit. Llamrei had wicket baskets attached to her sides, four in total, filled with bread and wrapped cheeses. Six other bags had been tide to his saddle that contained fruits and grain. It was a heavy load and he worried that Llamrei may not be able to cope, considering how long they were travelling for. But his horse did not seem bothered by her load.

"Are you ready, Arthur?" Morgana asked, the impatience so very clear in her tone that Arthur was sure that the detest in her voice from before was real. He could tell that this Morgana disliked him greatly.

Arthur nodded, not wishing to find a way of clashing with the woman who was Morgana but clearly not _his_ Morgana. He straddled his horse and gathered the reins in his hands. Once a few more bags had been attached to both Morgana and Guinevere's saddles, Morgana announced their leave. She kicked her horse's flanks and turned it to leave, guiding it out of the gates of Camelot and in way of the path. Guinevere remained close at her side on her own horse.

Shortly behind, Arthur followed suit and soon enough Camelot was sinking behind them into the distance.

* * *

They travelled for hours. Morning slowly rose into evening and evening was now slowly dipping into night. For well over ten hours they had been travelling, having stopped thrice for food and rest and twice more so that Morgana could refresh herself. Conversation had been scares, for Morgana kept her conversations only to Guinevere and only talked to Arthur when she needed something to be done. Guinevere had said a few words now and then and offered a few smiles, but they were only a formality of her nature and it did nothing to lift his spirits. The sun was slowly setting and soon Arthur knew that it would become too dark to travel.

Once they had found a decent clearing, large and spacious and hidden well into the forest, they decided to make camp. Their horses were tied to a few trees that lined a small brook for them to drink from and Guinevere gave them some food before she went about preparing supper on the campfire Arthur had made not long ago.

To Arthur's dismay, Morgana had insisted on bringing a tent for her to sleep in and had insisted that he put it together for her. It took him little over half an hour before it was finally erected on a patch on soft soil and layered with blankets on the inside. It was small, just barely enough room for Morgana and Guinevere, who would be sleeping with her, but it would provide enough protection for the night. Arthur did not see much point in bringing a tent and was quite content in sleeping in the open with naught but a blanket.

They ate supper in silence aside from the light roar of the campfire. Morgana and Guinevere had sparked up a brief conversation between the two of them before they were silent once more, and Arthur could see that the two women felt uncomfortable talking in front of him and for a moment felt rather awkward.

Finally, Morgana announced she was going to bed. She bid goodnight to Guinevere, who was going to remain for a while longer to fix a hole that had appeared in one of Morgana's shawls on their travel. Then Morgana turned to Arthur.

"Arthur, _you_ will keep watch tonight." Morgana said, with an air of finality before returning to her tent, leaving Arthur and Gwen sat around the fire.

Arthur sat staring into the flames, watching the reds and oranges mingle and the wood crackle loudly into the night air. He was so confused. He knew only questions and no answers and it infuriated him. What did he do to deserve _this_? To be forced into some… _paradox_ where everyone treated him differently? Camelot no longer greeted him warmly. Morgana treated him with such unnerving loath and even Guinevere seemed timid in his presence. Even as she sat across him by the campfire, he could see how tense she was, not wanting to look at him… It was like a knife to his chest.

And now Merlin was _gone_? Not that he cared. He didn't. He could never care for a sorcerer… or whatever Merlin was. It was just strange. Where could he have gone? _Why_ was he gone? He couldn't understand any of it.

Arthur sighed, suddenly feeling very drained, mentally and physically. He looked up at Guinevere, sat with her knees tucked beneath her, a shawl in her lap that she was stitching in the light of the fire.

He cleared his throat, "Guinevere," he began, keeping his voice casual.

Guinevere rose her head with an obedient smile, "Yes, sire?"

Arthur opened his mouth, and then closed it, turning the words over in his mind once more. Then, with a sag in his shoulders and an overwhelming feeling of defeat, he spoke. "Guinevere, am I… Am I a horrible person?"

He really wished he could have worded his question differently. But there was no other way he could ask. The way people reacted to his presence, the way he was treated… It made him wonder that perhaps in this time – or paradox, or wherever he was – he was, for better word, an ass.

And by the way Guinevere seemed hesitant and struck by his question, he was starting to believe he was right.

"N-no, sire." Gwen said finally with a forced smile that did nothing to ease Arthur's concerns, "You are not a horrible person, it's just…"

"Just?" Arthur encouraged.

Guinevere quickly realised what she had spoken and suddenly grew flustered, "Nothing, nothing. I meant nothing by it, sire." she corrected, suddenly interested in the shawl on her lap, fiddling with the ends between her fingers.

Sighing heavily once more, Arthur let the matter drop. He didn't need her to tell him, he could see quite clearly that his suspicions were correct. Whoever he was in this time, he wasn't well liked at all. Perhaps he was even cruel, a bully and unfit prince. But _why_? Why was the alternative persona so different?

Both prince and maidservant sat in silence while the fire continued to crackle. It was dimming slightly and Arthur threw a few sticks of wood into the flames and slowly it grew back to life. Guinevere stitched the shawl till it looked newly bought before setting it aside. Arthur had already returned to staring back into the fire but he could sense Guinevere staring at him.

"Sire…" Guinevere began and Arthur could only looked up. Gwen took a deep breath in order to push herself on, "Is there… is there something wrong?" She suddenly looked flustered again, "Not that it's my place to ask, I know, but if there is they say it will do you well to share your problems, though I know I'm only a servant and you don't have to, it's just, I think…" Her voice trailed off and heat rushed to her face.

Arthur laughed, though there was little humour in it, and gave Gwen a thankful grin, though it fell almost instantly. "Thank you, Guinevere. And… yes. I think something is wrong." he said pathetically. He would have felt like a fool saying this to Guinevere, normally, but then he remembered; this was not really Guinevere. This was a completely different woman who did not really know him… not really.

"Why is that?" Gwen encouraged, sitting expectantly, her beautiful face filled with concern.

"I think," he began, not really knowing how to voice his words anymore. "I think I've done something awful. That… I've made an awful decision. I don't know what to think anymore…" He honestly didn't. He didn't even know what he was saying.

Guinevere just sat silently.

"And now I think," Arthur went on, "I'm being punished for it and…" He didn't need to finish. He was sure Gwen could piece together what he wanted to say. He was starting to believe he deserved it, and he didn't know why. Or he did know, but he didn't want to admit it…

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for what felt like hours to Arthur and slowly he was starting to regret saying anything. This wasn't this same Guinevere he knew. She could very well laugh at him. Or worse, tell Morgana and have her laugh at him. Hell, he felt like laughing at himself already. But Guinevere just sat there, staring at him with an unreadable expression that he could not quite place through the haze of the fire, until finally she spoke.

"You're not a horrible person." Gwen said, her voice quiet, though the prince caught every word.

Arthur opened his mouth in confused protest but Guinevere noticed this and hastily elaborated.

"You asked if you were a horrible person. You're not." she said with a warm smile, "I think… I think you're just confused. A little misled, maybe. We are all brought up to believe certain things, even if they are wrong, and sometimes they confuse us. But I'm sure that what you've done wrong, no matter how awful you may think it is, I'm sure you will find a way to fix it. If you really want to right what you have done wrong, then right it will become. But you have to work for it. And if it doesn't work out as you hoped, then that's the way it's meant to be, but you can still say you tried… And that's all that matters in the end."

Arthur couldn't speak. He was surprised, and touched, and speechless beyond few words. And, for some reason he couldn't explain, he felt almost relieved by what Guinevere had said. "Thank you." was all he could say.

Gwen smiled before standing, brushing he skirt down and gathering the shawl in her arms. "You're very welcome," she said before dipping into a curtsey, "forgive me, sire, but I must go to bed. Milady will need me to assist her tomorrow morning and I must be awake before dawn to help repack."

Arthur nodded, gesturing his hand towards the tent, "Yes. And thank you again, Guinevere." And with a final smile and farewell, Guinevere returned to the tent and went inside, leaving Arthur on his own in the open forest.

_Right what I have done wrong_. Arthur mused lightly as he picked up a rock from the ground and let it sit in his hand, staring at its smooth edge and flawless surface. _But what have I done?_ In the back of his mind, he knew what he had done. But he couldn't place it; couldn't put it to words. It was as if every time he thought of it, denial would push it back down.

Sighing heavily for what felt like the hundredth time, Arthur tossed the rock across the clearing. With a small thump, it landed in a bush and for some reason Arthur felt like that rock. Being tossed around into unknown places, his chest heavy, feeling utterly useless and having no control of what was happening around him…

Arthur leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree and stared up at the stars.

* * *

**JUSTINE: Well… that's that. I know this may not have been worth the wait but I do hope you stick around, as I think both Nada and I intend to finish this. We're not entirely sure on length yet, just the major plot points. There's so much we could go in to for individual characters, go a little in-depth, but we'll see how things turn out. **

**Now, I never beg for reviews, but because it's been so long I would like to know who's actually still out there. Make yourself known! Tell us what you think, hate us, correct us. Anything. In the end, it would just be nice to know people are still willing to read this. Hopefully the next update will be MUCH quicker… **

**Again, many thanks to all our readers and we love you very much.**

**~ Justine and Nada Themis.**


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